P is for Picture
by nicol-leoraine
Summary: Episode tag to Three Coins in the Fuchsbau. Nick contemplates the past and the possible future.


**A/N: Written for the alphabet_soup challenge over at LJ. Prompted and beta-read by Tania. Spoilers for episode Three Coins In a Fuchsbau.  
**

**P is for Picture**

Nick couldn't stop thinking about the coins, about the things he had learnt during the last few days. He was lying next to Juliette, the first rays of daylight shining through the curtains. It was Sunday, and after several grueling weeks there was finally time to relax. There was no reason for him to be awake so early and Nick grimaced in frustration. Juliette mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled closer to him, and Nick gently brushed away a stray hair that was lying over her face. She looked so peaceful, so unaware of the dangers that lurked outside.

"How can I keep you safe?" Nick whispered into her hair but Juliette didn't respond, her breathing slow and relaxed.

With a sigh, Nick threw a look at the alarm clock. It was too early to start making breakfast, too soon to start prowling around the house, but he couldn't stay in bed any longer. Gently pushing Juliette away, Nick ignored the moan of protest and slid out of bed. It might be too early to make pancakes, but it was never too early for a cup of coffee.

Several minutes later Nick flopped down on the couch and sipped at the hot beverage. He flipped on the TV and started channel surfing, until he came to the news station. There was report on a car crash with multiple victims, showing the images of the twisted metal and ambulances leaving the scene. Nick froze when the reporter announced the victims were parents to three small children, who luckily hadn't been traveling with them at the time. Nick blinked and turned off the TV. The last thing he needed right now was to hear about another family being torn apart.

The Steinadlers words kept flashing through his mind and Nick stood abruptly, hissing as the coffee sloshed from the cup and burned his skin.

"Damn it," Nick cursed and put the cup down on the table, heading for the kitchen and putting his hand under cold running water.

His parents had died in a car crash, at least that was what he thought. As a kid he often thought about it. Did they know what was happening or was it so fast they didn't even realize? Did they feel the pain? He had nightmares about them being trapped in the car as it went up in flames, used to wake up screaming with terror, but that passed as each time Aunt Marie came to his room and soothed him with facts. The car didn't go up in flames, his parents died on impact. They had felt no pain, she assured him time and time again, and Nick believed her. But she'd lied.

It hadn't been an accident at all. And, as Nick read in the report, his mother survived the initial crash and died several minutes later due to internal bleeding. She still had enough strength to take off her seat belt and crawl out through the broken window at the back. It looked like she was trying to get help. Or get away from whoever was trying to kill her, Nick thought grimly. After all, she was the last known person to be in the possession of the coins before they'd vanished.

Shaking his head, Nick turned off the water and dried his hands. He'd been twelve when the accident had happened. He could still remember the day Aunt Marie came to pick him up from school, a stricken look marring her face. The moment he saw her he knew that he would never see his parents again. However, as clearly as Nick could recall Aunt Marie, the image of his parents became shady in his memory. Feeling a sudden urge to remember, to see his mother's face again, Nick rushed back to the living room and opened the cabinet where they stored the photo albums. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. While there were plenty of photos of him growing up - his mother loved to take pictures - there weren't that many of his parents, and even less pictures of all of them together. Still, opening the album, Nick quickly skipped over his first years, looking for one picture in particular. It was the last one they'd took, on his birthday.

Finding it, Nick flopped into the nearest chair and studied the photo. His parents looked happy and normal. No signs of one of them being a Grimm. There were some wrinkles on his mother's face but she was looking lovingly at her husband, her arms curled around the small dark haired boy who was making faces at the camera. A normal family. But as Nick looked at the picture his thoughts started going back to the past, and he began to remember.

The nights when his mother was gone, his father prowling through the house nervously, waiting for her. When Nick asked where his mom was he always got the same answer. She'd stayed late to finish some work. But that didn't explain his father's behavior. As a kid Nick didn't put much thought into it. His mom always came back. If he'd been older he would've put his father's nervousness down to jealousy, but there were no arguments between his parents and his dad looked more worried than anything. Looking at it now, Nick came to the conclusion that his father must've known. He had to know his wife was a Grimm and that she was out on a hunt and not seeing another man.

Another memory popped into Nick's mind, of a night he hadn't been feeling so well. He'd been maybe eight or nine. It was late, and his stomach hurt, and he headed for his parents' bedroom to seek help, but found it empty. Frowning, he turned to call out when he heard the front door open and the familiar voices of his parents. Grimacing, Nick wandered towards the staircase when a wave of dizziness made him stop. He saw his father helping his mother to the couch, as she cradled her ribs protectively. She looked hurt and tired, and Nick's father looked worried and angry at the same time, but his voice was quiet and steady.

"How long can you keep this up? How long before one of those creatures get you?" He asked even as he was helping her out of the coat. Nick's mom hissed, and then shook her head.

"I won't allow that, Reed. I'm careful. I must be," she added but this time it was Reed who shook his head.

"You're hurt right now, Kelly. What if one day you don't come back? What would I tell Nick?"

"That it's not nice to eavesdrop and that he should be in bed," she said and looked up towards the stairs. Nick's father looked up too, startled. Nick wanted to ask what they meant, what creatures were they talking about and why mom wouldn't come back, but his stomach chose that time to remind him of the reason he was out of bed and he threw up. The rest of the night became hazy and the worrisome conversation was lost in Nick's memory. He spent almost a week in bed, sick with the flu and feverish. He didn't take notice of his mother's ginger movements, and when he hugged her and she gave a hiss, she put it down to her feeling sore and catching the flu too. As a kid, Nick hadn't known better. As an adult, he shook his head in disbelief. There were signs, things that should've warned him that something was going on, that their family wasn't as normal as it looked on the outside, but he never realized it, and he had to admire his parents for that. They had managed to protect him through it all, even if they couldn't protect themselves in the end.

How did they do it? His mother was a Grimm, yet she had a family. Her husband knew and albeit worryingly, he accepted who she was, what she was. Could Nick and Juliette have the same trust between them? Could they be a family despite him being a Grimm? Nick didn't know. His parents weren't there to give him advice. Aunt Marie wasn't there to tell him more either. Did she know her sister was a Grimm before she died? Was it common knowledge in their family or did she – like Nick himself – learn about it only when death was coming? Those were questions he should've had an answer to, but Nick draw a blank and there was no one left to answer them.

"Isn't it a bit early for family albums? Or were you trying to get back to sleep?" Juliette spoke from behind him, startling Nick out of his thoughts. He turned and smiled at her.

"You figured me out. I couldn't sleep and thought looking at family photos would knock me out."

"Yet you're still awake," she said with a raised eyebrow, and took a sip from his coffee cup, grimacing."Uh, and you have been for a while. The coffee is cold."

"Really?" Nick looked towards the clock, surprised to see that he'd spent more than half an hour staring at the picture.

"You okay?" She asked and cradled her arms around him, leaning against the back of the chair. He put a kiss on her arm and smiled.

"I'm fine. Just... Needed to take a look, to remember. The picture in my mind was too hazy."

Juliette hummed and looked at the open album on Nick's lap. "She was beautiful," she said and Nick's fingers traced the face on the picture.

"Yeah, she was. And strong."

"Well, if she was anything like your Aunt Marie, your dad must've had his work cut out for him," Juliette said and Nick couldn't stop the chuckle.

"Yeah, I think dad must've been a saint or something," he added with a small smile. "I still miss them," he admitted and Juliette tightened her grip around his chest.

"I know," she whispered.

"They've been gone for so long, and I thought I had accepted that, but then Aunt Marie," he paused, choking on the words and Juliette hushed him, putting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm here. You're not alone," she said and Nick didn't know how to reply, because that was part of the problem. She was there and he wanted nothing more than for her to stay. But she didn't know the truth and it was dangerous, and he didn't want to lose her, didn't want to be alone.

"Sometimes I'm just scared I will lose you too," he admitted.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of. Now either scoot over and show me some more pictures of you making faces at the camera, or come into the kitchen and help me make pancakes, because I am hungry."

Nick looked at her, the small grin tugging at her lips and the loving look. He looked back at the picture and saw his mother looking the same way at his father. Clapping the album shut, Nick let Juliette pull him out of the chair.

"Pancakes first, pictures later," he said as his stomach grumbled and Juliette laughed. If his parents had managed to stay together, maybe they could do it too. He would just have to make sure that history wouldn't repeat itself, and protect Juliette more than ever. And he had a few things his parents didn't have. A badge, a blutbad for a friend and a kick ass girlfriend. That had to count for something.

The End


End file.
